Coda
by knightshade
Summary: Sometimes answers are illusive. Episode tag for Cold Lazarus. Sara and Jack.


Title: Coda  
Author: knightshade  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Jack/Sara  
Spoilers: Cold Lazarus

Summary: Sometimes answers are illusive. Episode tag for Cold Lazarus.

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate or its characters. See Gekko, MGM, Double Secret and a bunch of other folks.

**Coda**

The irony made her ache in places she'd thought were long forgotten. He was the one who did this sort of thing for a living. He was the one who knew about tailing and surveillance and keeping hidden in the dark. But here she was, sitting in her beat-up truck outside his house in the middle of the night, just watching.

Sara wasn't even sure what she was looking for. Answers maybe. But they were as illusive as the warmth in the coffee cup she'd been holding between her hands for hours now. They were as illusive as the colors in the shadows around Jack's house.

As illusive as the shadows inside too.

The moment she'd seen Jack on Charlie's bed, near tears, it had opened all the holes she'd plastered over and tried to wish away. It had taken her right back to the day her world ended. But the Jack in that room had been different. He'd been willing to talk. He seemed to want some sort of closure. He was the Jack she'd been unconsciously hoping for for years.

She should have known it wasn't really him.

The light in Jack's living room seeped out into the street, through the slats in his blinds. She could see his shadow sitting on the couch. Every so often his arm would rise and she could almost see the long-neck curled tightly in his hand. She didn't need more than a silhouette to imagine him sitting there. She was intimately familiar with the details. He'd been sitting like that in the back of her mind for a long time now. This was the real Jack O'Neill -- the one who closed in on himself, who kept everyone at arms length when things got bad. She'd known about that side of him when they got married, but it hadn't seemed important back then. Maybe she'd been a little too starry-eyed because she certainly hadn't considered all the consequences. She hadn't realized how painful it would be to have a husband who could shut her out when she needed him most.

Sara drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, still trying to wrap her mind around what had happened these last few days. She still didn't know who or what had come to visit her, but she ached for it to be Jack. She wanted him to open up, to finally let her in. Even if it was too late for them, it would still be something.

And Charlie. She couldn't breathe when she thought about that perfect image of her son staring up at her, taking her hand, breaking her heart into so many miserable pieces all over again. She may have plastered over the holes Jack left, but Charlie's holes were gaping wounds. She lived with them, accepted them, tried not to fall into them when at all possible. But to see her son again, to look into his eyes and know that it wasn't -- couldn't be -- him was devastating. And the worst part was that there was no one she could talk to about it. Jack had said they'd talk, but he hadn't come to see her. 'Yet,' her heart wanted to add, but her head knew better. He'd said that before Charlie appeared. Anyone else she could confide in would probably nod and listen but all the while wonder if she'd finally lost it.

And she wouldn't lose it. She wasn't going to. If Charlie's death hadn't broken her completely, nothing would. She'd lived through one of the cruelest twists life had to offer and picked up the pieces alone. She wasn't going to let some clone or alien or shared delusion or God knew what else it was destroy her.

Some part of her just wanted to know what really happened.

As Sara watched, Jack's silhouette moved out of her field of view and the lights in the room went dark. Then she thought she saw the most minute movement at the edge of the blinds. She stared out over the gulf between them and wondered if he knew she was there, wondered what was going through his head. She wouldn't be surprised if Jack had taken note of the vehicle sitting on the street outside his house, recognized her truck, and was watching her the way she was watching him. The thought filled her with an insufferable loneliness.

After a few minutes of darkness and another flutter of the blinds, the light in the bedroom flipped on. She watched his shadow going about its business. If he had seen her, if he did know she was out there, he was ignoring her.

God, he could be such a bastard sometimes.

It wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth getting her hopes up. She understood why he'd left. At least partially. She'd been angry. And yes, for a while she'd blamed him. So in part, she'd driven him away. She could accept responsibility for that. She could apologize and forgive and move on. But she couldn't make Jack do those things. And she couldn't make him forgive himself if he wasn't ready to.

Sara fumbled with her key before it found the ignition in the dark. She put the truck in gear and watched as the light in the bedroom went out. "Goodbye, Jack," she whispered, vowing to herself that this time she really meant it, and drove off down the darkened street alone.

The sooner she started plastering over her heart again, the sooner she could finally move on.

--------------  
-knightshade  
July 9, 2007


End file.
